No Children
by TwistedEnvisage
Summary: Clay and Bloberta have an unbearable marriage. Coach Stopframe only contributes to such facts. A love triangle through the POV's of Clay, Bloberta, and Coach Stopframe. Events from the day Clay and Bloberta married through the final episode 'Honor'


**A/N: So there is only five Moral Orel fanfics on here. What is up with that? So here is my contribution. I hope I have the effort to finish this whole story.**

**This will follow the love triangle between Clay, Bloberta, and Daniel Stopframe. It is dysfunctional and there is more going on than the actual show will allow us to know. So here is my interpretation on these chaotic relationships. I am sure at least one person out there thinks the same way that this story will interpret them.**

**This story will jump back and forth between Clay's, Bloberta's, and Coach Stopframe's POV's. It will follow chronological order of the show. This first chapter is strictly between Clay and Bloberta.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Moral Orel. Or the title of this story, which is the name of the song used in the episode "Numb". 'No Children' is a song by The Mountain Goats.**

**No Children**

**Chapter One: The Marriage**

**Bloberta's POV**

It was finally my wedding day. I had been growing worried since all of my other friends were getting married, that this day would not come for me. I had just been lucky enough to meet Clay at one of my friend's wedding, and loosen him up with some alcohol. Though the plan did backfire, I was still able to convince him to marry me.

It wasn't easy and I was worried it wouldn't work. But I had helped him and did nothing but help him, and that was the reason I was sticking with for him to marry me. I could just keep helping him. We would adjust and get to know each other through time. I practically begged him though I would never let anyone find out such a thing. So I had asked Clay if him saying he should keep me around was a proposal. Clay said it was what he proposed and smiled at me. And voila, I was five minutes away from walking down the aisle!

Things couldn't have gone better, from an outsider's point of view, other than our lack of knowing the other. I was excited to be married to Clay; though he seemed like a womanizing asshole when he was drunk. He was attractive. Some may call us crazy for only knowing each other a few days and being engaged the same amount of time, then getting married. I would just refer to this as a necessary plunge in life. I refused to be looked at as the 'lonely one' or the one the negative gossip centered around. I wanted a perfect family in the eyes of everyone in Moralton, like most probably thought mine was, excluding myself of course. Though my family was the furthest thing from perfect.

The thought of my family made me cringe. I couldn't stand my mother. I was almost happy she wasn't having a big part in this. She would be with the rest of the guests like the rest of my family, where they belonged. I sighed, looking in the mirror and replacing the frown that was expressed on my features with a smile. I turned and made my way towards the doors, grabbing my bouquet in the process. I heard the music and my smile grew as I began to walk down the aisle towards Clay. This was it. This is the man who would be next to me till the day I died. There was no going back on these vows.

**Clay's POV**

I was nervous and trying my best not to shake. What in the hell was I doing? I didn't know Bloberta worth shit. I've been locked in my house with my bible and now just wanted to socialize and drink. The alcohol brought out the demons that I tried my best to suppress from the citizen's of Moralton, from God. I turned to look at my soon-to-be wife as she started walking down the aisle.

I grabbed onto my right forearm with my left hand as my nerves grew further. I forced a smile onto my face, hoping that it looked normal. This had to be believable. I wasn't even sure what to expect with this marriage. In my mind, she tricked me into this. I was hungover when this happened and she was helping me feel better when I had woken up. Bloberta practically begged me to keep her around. Part of me didn't want to say no, but I wasn't sure why. I had no feelings or much of an attraction towards this woman.

As she approached the alter, she stopped next to me. I turned around, frowning instantly. I wasn't facing anyone other than Reverend Putty so I didn't care to pretend to be happy. I knew it made Bloberta frown as well. Did she expect me to be the happiest person in the room? We didn't know each other! To me this was totally crazy. I was just happy that I had brought something to help numb myself.

I reached into my jacket pocket, grabbing a hidden flask and stealing a sip. As if it were an instinct, Bloberta reached out to spray my flask, rubbing it clean though it already was. It was only a few days old. We continued to frown as the wedding ceremony continued, both of us saying our "I do's" as though with blank tones.

I took another chug of my flask as the Rev finished up with this thing. Quite frankly, I just wanted to get to the reception. There was an open bar. I would be black-out drunk by the end of the night if I was lucky.

"You may kiss the bride." The Rev's voice annoyed me now more than ever. I hadn't even thought about the kiss we had to share. I turned to look at her, another forced smile on my face. I saw her doing the same. Our guests clapped as we leaned in, placing our lips awkwardly against the other's. It was our first physical interaction other than Bloberta holding my head, and it was my first intimate interaction with a woman.

**Bloberta's POV**

I wouldn't have to worry about the fact that I wasn't married, like my other friends. I wouldn't be the one left behind and lonely. The thought alone made me smile as Clay and I awkwardly held hands, walking from the alter to where we were holding the reception. It was in the church, so we weren't going far. I took this opportunity to speak to him.

"Don't ruin this with your drunken stupor. Keep yourself under control." I tried to say sternly, as if speaking to a child. He was acting like a total moron the other day that we meant after he had a few drinks. I could tell he was already a few in. I was starting to grow worried what his drinking would make him become at our reception.

"Me?" He spoke 'innocently', pointing to himself. "Ruin this? Now how would that happen?" I watched Clay as he spoke with humor in his tone, reaching into his jacket for that damned flask again. I watched him take another chug, listening to the 'ah' noise he make after drinking it. I made a disgusted face.

"I don't think you know how you are when you're drunk." I glared at him, wondering how our first night alone would go at this point.

"And I don't care." He tugged on my hand lightly, pulling me towards the reception faster. "Let's dance." Clay grinned at me. I smiled, hoping that things would get better from this point.

We entered the reception hall area, walking into the open area in the center of the floor. I stopped, turning to look for Clay. I was none-too-surprised to see he had walked to the bar, already chugging a glass of champagne down. I scoffed, rolling my eyes. He'd better get his ass over here.

"It's time for the two love birds first dance as newlyweds!" I heard Reverend Putty announce to everyone in the room. I looked stupid standing here alone while that, _filth_, drank. "Clay and Bloberta Puppington, why don't you get to the center of the room for first dance?" Reverend Putty smiled at me and motioned for Clay to come over.

Clay seemed disgruntled as he neared me. The music started and the lights dimmed. I knew all eyes were on us. But I knew his eyes weren't on me.

**Clay's POV**

I awkwardly pulled Bloberta closer, placing a hand on her waist. This wasn't my ideal woman to be dancing with. A quick scan around the room confirmed that Bloberta was indeed, NOT the most attractive woman in the room.

There was a blonde in the distance, she looked to be around Bloberta's age. Her nice perky breasts in her light purple dress were completely noticeable. I noticed a red head to the left, in a snug red dress. Her curves were defined and she looked delicious.

I was jerked back to reality by Bloberta as we started moving to the song. I didn't care to listen to what it was. I also didn't care to have the dance look perfect. I pulled her closer, though only so I could try and sneak a drink from the flask in my jacket. I heard her scoff, glancing at her face to see her glaring.

"You could pretend to care." She whispered harshly to me. I almost laughed.

"You can't seriously care about me. We've known each other like three days." I spoke to her as though she were ignorant. I laughed. She was not fond of this.

"I married you, you married me. We have to seem like we care about each other to everyone. Otherwise this marriage is bad in the eyes of God and the citizens of Moralton. And you don't want that now do you?" She was such a bitch. I could already tell. I already couldn't stand her.

"I think _you_ don't want that." Was my remark. I heard everyone clap so I assumed I was able to move away from her. I pushed myself off of her, making my way back to the bar with my flask in hand. Champagne would make a nice chaser for the whiskey. Now I just had to find more liquor.

**Bloberta's POV**

Clay only seemed to get more drunk with each passing moment. This whole things was a disaster. We couldn't share our glasses of champagne together, because he had to drink from his flask. We didn't get to cut the cake together, because he drunkenly leaned against the wall and laughed about something totally unrelated. The garter he removed, was not mine. It belonged to Miss Nursulla Bendy. I was more than offended that he had done such things at our wedding. In front of everyone's prying and judgmental eyes.

I didn't think things would be able to get any worse. That was until he was arrested for drunk driving as we were making our way from the reception in our 'Just Married' car. I cried harder than I had in a while. Everything about this day was completely wrong. I thought Clay would have been the perfect man to marry. As I drove myself home to our new empty home, I began to think my judgment may have been off.

~MORAL OREL~ ~MORAL OREL~ ~MORAL OREL~ ~MORAL OREL~ ~MORAL OREL~

**Bloberta's POV**

We weren't able to spend our wedding night together. The night I would really become a woman and he a man. He spent our wedding night in jail. I spent our wedding night in my wedding dress tending to our new home, alone.

I was able to go pick him up the next morning. He was a total jackass. We argued the whole way home about how he had acted at our wedding.

"You could have acted interested in me!" I was angry. I stormed into our newly bought house, making our way to our newly furnished room, thanks to myself I slammed open our bedroom door, hearing Clay follow me.

"I know your name! I don't know any other god damned thing about you." Clay argued back. This was clearly going nowhere. I heard him mumble, "I don't wanna know anything else," callously. I turned on my heels to glare at him.

"Last night was supposed to be a special one for us Clay! We were supposed to consummate our marriage." I placed my hands on my hips angrily.

"It's not my fault that Officer Papermouth," he shook his hands stupidly in the air, saying the officer's name in a childish tone, "decided to pull us over. If I wasn't in jail, we would've had sex last night." He said it bluntly and irritated. So maybe he did want it too?

"Well it would have been nice to not argue on the way home so we could have now. You just can't admit your wrong doings." I crossed my arms, turning away from him again.

"You coulda fooled me that you were in the mood." He chided. I turned on my heels one more time to approach him. With a glare in my eyes, ready to retaliate I suddenly realized if I gave him no emotional reaction, things would die down faster. As soon as the realization registered, the glare died, replaced with a blank stare.

"How would you know? You probably never have had a woman interested in you." My tone was cold, the way I had wanted it to be.

"For your information Blo-ber-ta," He said my name as obnoxiously as he could, "I have had women interested in me in the past. I just didn't want to get close to them cause I was happy with my Bible. You got me to drink then tricked me into this the next day." He pointed his finger at me accusingly, though I could care less.

**Clay's POV**

"I tricked you into this? You agreed. It's not my fault you couldn't handle the hangover and needed more help." She gave me a look like there was more too it than she was saying. But Bloberta seemed confident and I didn't like it. I reached for my flask that was still in my jacket. I had refilled it on the way home. I needed a bottle after being in jail. It had been one of the many arguments in the car.

"I needed someone to hold my head. There's a difference there." I glared at her, taking another big chug. That burn felt so good. I sat on the end of our bed, kicking my shoes off. I felt the need to lay in a real bed. Jail wasn't the most comfortable place and I didn't intend on going back.

"A difference? I asked if it was a proposal and you said it is what you proposed. I assumed we were on the same page about this marriage and it would be okay. That we would get to know each other over time. We are both attractive so I figured we'd have a good sex life. I thought we could attempt to make this thing work." She stepped closer to me, kicking my shoes at me. "And get yourself decent! We are in the middle of a serious discussion."

"Decent? You want me to be decent?" I taunted in a snippy tone, ripping my jacket off of my body. I threw it to the ground. The tie and button up shirt I was wearing took only seconds to follow. I glared at her. "I'm decent honey!"

"You're disgraceful!" She placed her hands on her hips, looking away from me but not moving away. I knew at that moment part of her wanted me. As much as she may hate me, she still wanted to be married to me. She probably wouldn't find a better option out there. The thought made me feel confident. I was the winner of this woman.

"You better get used to it cause this is all you've got!" I placed my fingers tips on my chest, signifying that I was the only man she'd have. "If you wanna make this work, get in this bed and let's consummate this thing." I moved myself back onto the bed, laying my head on the pillow only briefly glancing in her direction.

It was silent for a minute. I thought she was going to leave the room. She seemed like a prude. Instead she made her way to the other side of the bed, lying down next to me. She was wearing a maroon button up t-shirt dress, a belt showing off her tiny waist that I didn't notice till now. Maybe there was some sex appeal to her, but how long would that last?

"Alright. Let's make this marriage work." She turned to face me, seeming unsure of everything. I wasn't sure of things myself. I wasn't sure what to think of her especially. I also turned on my side, moving closer to Bloberta.

"Fine." I said, making sure I got the final word. I leaned in crashing my lips to hers. The kiss was a lust I hadn't felt. It finally wasn't a sin to have sex, to think about sex. She was my wife and I could do whatever I wanted with her. That was the only perk to this. We had only kissed a few moments before I pulled away.

I looked down hungrily at her, slowly unbuttoning her dress from top to bottom. My hand twitched with anticipation as I undid her belt. I slowly pushed her dress open, caressing my hands along her abdomen and sides, down to her thighs.

She had a nicely shaped body. It was a good thing she kept her body covered well. Men might try and take her from me. She seemed like she'd prove to be a good housewife. I needed someone reliable to carry and birth my son. He'd carry on the Puppington name after-all.

She instantly closed her dress back up, looking at me as if she didn't want to proceed. I bet her mood was gone. I rolled my eyes. She pissed me off. Part of me definitely already hated her.

"Let's leave our clothes on. I have to finish unpacking and cleaning the house, this won't be long." She seemed uninterested. How dare she? Without a second thought I reached out, grabbing my flask to chug the rest of it.

"In five minutes I bet you'll want to take that thing off." I smirked, running my hand along the middle of her torso to her underwear. My hands were shaking but I tried to pass it off as me being drunk. She didn't need to know I was nervous.

**Bloberta's POV**

I was more nervous than I was willing to admit. I didn't want my dress open and I was growing self conscience. Clay seemed to want my body which helped boost my confidence but for the time being, he didn't deserve this. This was something I wanted though. It connected us to the other.

I felt his hand trace below my bellybutton, reaching my underwear. He didn't stop moving his hand, pulling them along with it. Soon they were off me and on the floor. Clay placed his body over mine as he undid his pants, hastily kicked them down to his ankles awkwardly, managing to push them off the rest of the way. I noticed immediately that his boxers had been removed too.

"Come on, let's get that dress off." His tone was seductive and a chill went through me that I had never felt before. I felt Clay lean down and nuzzle my neck, playfully nipping it with his teeth. I couldn't stop the giggle that came out of me. So this is how marriage would be? We could get used to this. We could like each other, love each other. It couldn't be that hard.

"Alright, unpacking and cleaning will have to wait." I smiled at him as he pushed the dress off of me, ripping it from underneath me and tossing it to the floor. We were both aroused and ready for this.

"I hope you're ready for the best time of your life." Clay was close enough that I could feel his breath on my face. He reeked of alcohol. Something I was used to smelling in my home. Something I would have to get used to smelling on my husband.

"You talk big for never having had sex before." I teased, hoping to urge him on. My hopes were answered as I felt his fingers running against my entrance. I then noticed how close his naked body was to mine.

His finger slid into me, making me moan. I had never felt something like this. It was nice to be intimate. To be physical. To feel needed and wanted. After a few minutes another finger was added, repeating the process. I was moaning into his shoulder, and I could hear his deep breathing, showing how aroused he was.

"You'll see it's not all talk." He smirked, whispering into my ear. He moved his fingers, only to tease me with the tip of his member. With one downward movement, I motivated him further, causing him to slowly move into me. It was more painful than expected but bearable as he pushed himself in all the way.

After a few slow breaths, he began to move just as slow, though wasting no time in picking up the pace. For many minutes we were going at a rapid pace, moaning to each other. It was the only peaceful moment we had shared so far other than the moment we meant. A few more minutes passed of the erratic intercourse, which was better than I had expected it to be though we were inexperienced; we were reaching our climaxes. Our mouths instantly connected, raw lust of intimacy behind the kiss. We moaned into each other's mouths, riding out our orgasms as we experienced real sex for the first time.

**Clay's POV**

Though she pissed me off, she wasn't bad at having sex. Or I just hadn't been around enough. It was probably the latter. I breathed heavily for a few moments as I regained my composure. I quickly sat up, dressing myself.

"I'm gonna shower and go sit in my study." I grabbed clothes from my dresser as spoke, happy that she had already put them away for me. I nodded to her, quickly exiting the room. I didn't care for her response. I made my way to the shower, enjoying the fact that I could clean myself.

As the water hit my back, I realized things would always be this way. It was then my hatred for the world grew again. I had only hated the world one other chunk of time in my life. I managed to change that by reading the Bible and locking myself in my house. But I was growing older and starting a family, also drinking.

I didn't have time to try and make only positives in my life. It was easier said than done. Newly Married to a woman I didn't know, growing older with each passing day, starting a career in the local government; hoping to make it to the position of Mayor, having a son and family; I couldn't run from those things. I had to support them. I had to have a son to carry on my name. But I could experience it all numb. I now had a new respect for the alcoholic beverage.

~ MORAL OREL~ ~MORAL OREL~ ~MORAL OREL~ ~MORAL OREL~ ~MORAL OREL~

**Bloberta's POV**

The few times Clay and I had managed to actually have sex after our first time were awkward. He seemed distant, though being drunk didn't help. Once he was drunk enough, he'd come around me. When he wasn't drunk, he'd come around me. It seemed like he actually liked being around me when he was sober.

We had managed to sit down and have several conversations. They seemed out of place but it was due to the necessity of needing to know things about the other. We were going to raise children one day. We were going to be around the other every day. We needed to know things about each other's past. One day I even told him how my family treated me, though just walked off not too long after the conversation was over.

One particular night Clay had been sad, and I wasn't sure why. I could hear him speaking angrily to himself or to someone who wasn't in his study. He was belligerently drunk. I sat down on the arm of his armchair, looking down at him.

"Who are you yelling at?" I looked at him as though he were stupid.

"Who the hell let you in here?" His words were so slurred I was lucky to hear them. I reached out, taking the glass out of his hand, placing it on the small table next to us.

"Myself when I heard you yelling like a drunken idiot." I snapped. "Now what's got you so worked up?" I wasn't sure if I cared, but part of me really wanted to help him. I wasn't sure why. He wasn't the best man, I wasn't sure if I'd even label him as suitable for any woman.

**Clay's POV**

"What's got me so worked up you ask?" I started, not caring that my words were slurred. I went to go reach for the half filled glass that was next to me, but was stopped by Bloberta. "Today's the day my mom died." I said it emotionless, trying not to show how it really made me feel to her.

"You could have just said something. You already told me your parents had passed away. You didn't need to get so drunk your vision is probably double, or sit here in your study alone yelling at the air." I watched her gesture, speaking to me like she was inferior. I scoffed at her.

"I killed my mom you know." I sounded cold, thinking about my father's words the day my mother died. "That's the gun I killed my mother with." I practically repeated his words. "Ol' Gunny that I have hung right over there." I pointed to Ol' Gunny, laughing in anger at the memory of my father that day and ever day after. I was glad I moved out of that house as soon as I could.

"My dad was going to teach me how to use that gun. It's a family tradition to pass it down to your first born son." I added drunkenly, though it wasn't needed. By the look on Bloberta's face, I wasn't sure if she could understand what I was saying, or just thought I was a lunatic. With no second thought, I continued my rant.

"So one day, I was playing with Ol' Gunny and decided to play a trick on my mother. You see my mom had so many miscarriages before I was born due to doing things she shouldn't have while she was pregnant. I thought I was her special, her only. But I wasn't." I jerked my wrist out of her hand, reaching for the glass, finishing it's contents. I slammed it on the table.

"Now I brushed it off since she treated me so good, but I have to admit, it stung me. But back to Ol' Gunny." I shook my head, my eyes darkening. "I decided to play a trick since I was playing with the gun, shooting it off though it wasn't loaded. It sounded like it was. With ketchup I made it look like there was blood on me. My mom came inside and freaked out, praying to God to take her instead of me." I stared at the ground, pausing for several minutes to reminise.

**Bloberta's POV**

Clay sounded like he was going crazy but all I could do was stare at him. I was speechless from what I had picked up of his rant. I waited for him to continue, curious what had actually happened.

"I 'awoke from the dead' in her eyes, though I was just trying to tell her it was a joke. She got so excited thinking it was a miracle and happy that I was okay that she had a heart attack and died. My dad said I killed her with that gun." His voice was low, and his eyes looked as though they were tearing.

I did the only thing I could think of and wrapped my arms around him. He unexpectedly pushed me away.

"I don't need your sympathy." He said harshly to me. Without a second thought I stood and left the room, slamming his study door shut.

After that night we didn't talk much. We barely looked at each other. I placed a lust guard between our bed. Clay worked then came home to drink alone in his study. We only saw each other when it was dinner time and we were eating, or when we went to our beds.

It didn't help that out of the few times Clay and I had sex, I had managed to become pregnant. I only found this out weeks after our conversation in his study. We weren't expecting a child so early.

Once Clay discovered that we were having a boy a few months later, he started growing a little closer to me. Like he really wanted this family we were starting together. Like he was happy to be with me. I knew however, it was only because his son was in my womb, but I would take what I could get.

For a time being the lust guard was even removed and our beds pushed back together. He would rub my stomach and talk to our baby. Around seven months into the pregnancy we spent every night trying to decide on a name for our son. After weeks of discussion we agreed on the name Orel.

The emotional distance continued to not be an issue after we first had Orel. Clay had managed to land the position as Mayor of Moralton like he had hoped, we had our newborn son, we were young and healthy. Things seemed good in the scrutinizing eyes of the citizen's of Moralton, and naively in mine as well.

Clay spent time with Orel when he was a newborn, seeming to want alone time with him. He would mutter things to Orel that I couldn't hear. I always wanted to know what he said, but when I'd ask, he'd hand me Orel and brush it off as if nothing had happened. He'd go to his study, lock the door, and drink heavier than normal. I learned not to question it.

As Orel began speaking, Clay was thrilled to find out Orel's first word was "Dada." For a few days he tried to get Orel to say it as many times as he could. Soon the thrill of it faded and he moved back to drinking. He wasn't thrilled for any other of Orel's firsts.

He was starting to grow distant again. Things had seemed so well though we weren't having any sex, we didn't talk too much, and our time was so consumed by our responsibilities. I wasn't sure what was creating it.

One day, a few months before Orel hit the age of four, I had managed to put Orel to bed early. I was ecstatic to finally have the time to have sex with Clay again. I was in need of the feeling. I walked into his study, with a cute little nightgown on that I had bought without him knowing. To my dismay he rejected me, preferring to drink alone and complain about how he was unhappy. I never tried again after that. I'd rather please myself than allow that man to please me. The lust guard was put back between our, again separated beds.

As Orel hit the age of four, the distance grew worse. Clay would come home from work, complain about his 'dead-end' job, go straight to his study and drink alone till dinner. The short interaction he had with Orel was the furthest thing from parental guidance and care. Clay'd go back to his study and drink the rest of the night. I don't know how he did it. How he drank so much, how he had such disreguard for his family. Filth was what he was and I still thought it five years into our marriage.

~MORAL OREL~ ~MORAL OREL~ ~MORAL OREL~ ~MORAL OREL~ ~MORAL OREL~

**Clay's POV**

I didn't want to go home, but being at this shitty job wasn't any better. I had no escape. I wanted some kind of freedom. I would never have it. I had to sacrifice it for my family. To provide for them. Bloberta expected more. She'd argue with me about the lack of attention towards her and Orel, about my drinking problem being a bad influence and the only thing preventing our marriage from working, about how I needed to help more with Orel since he was still so young.

I rolled my eyes as I made my way home, stopping at the liquor store to restock my almost empty stash in my study. I contemplated briefly going to Forghetty's knowing if I were to walk in the house, the first thing she'd do is try to prevent me from going to my study. As I reached the house, I prepared myself for the short fast walk to my sanctuary. That was my man cave, my place. I opened our front door, disappointed to find Orel running to me.

"Daddy! You're home!" He hugged me, happy to see me. I half pat his shoulder as I scanned the room quickly to see if Bloberta wasn't in the room.

"Where's your mother at son?" I asked as I slowly moved step by step closer to the hallway in the back of the living room to make my escape to my study.

"She's making food." His childish voice rang through my ears as he giggled. "Can you play Jesus and pals with me Dad, please?" He tugged on my pants. As much as I wanted to run to my study for a drink, I irritatedly set down the alcohol on the table that was in the living room.

"Fine. For ten minutes. But then Daddy has to go do some grown-up stuff." I smiled at him, nodding. He grinned to me, acting as if he understood.

"Yay! Ten minutes!" He clapped, running enthusiastically to collect the toys. "We had less than that yesterday." He said as he handed me Jesus. "You can be Jesus since you're older." Was his only logic since he didn't completely understand yet.

My mind wandered as I half-assed 'played' 'Jesus and pals' with Orel. Part of me really thought today would be different, she wouldn't nag me. The thought actually pissed me off more than her nagging did. She hadn't even come to greet me yet. I know she heard me walk in the door and heard Orel yell happily for me.

She was trying to avoid me just as much as I was trying to avoid her. After several minutes of trying to concentrate on playing 'Jesus and pals' with Orel, I gave up and stood.

"Sorry son, but I have to go take care of some grown-up things. We'll play 'Jesus and pals' later." I reached out, petting his head in the cliche manner that you see in movies. He frowned but nodded.

"Okay Daddy!" He went right back to playing as I made my way into the kitchen with my bottle. She didn't even acknowledge me. It's like the grudge between her and I was growing more and more. I glared at her, deciding to do the same. I already spent most of my time away from her. Now I won't even give her a second glance.

It wouldn't be able to last too long. Orel had to start school soon. I would carry it on till my point was proven. I didn't know what that was. But Bloberta needed to be more of a wife again and a bit less of a mother. There was no relationship between us at the moment. That night I started going to Forghetty's a lot more. Every time I went I had a sneaky suspicion that I was being watched, but brushed it off by getting drunk. I had no idea those drunken nights in the bar, how much worse life would really get.

**A/N: And here is the first chapter! This is some dark shit. It actually made me sad writing this. I feel so bad for Clay and Bloberta. I am happy that I am able to write this story though, to show my interpretation on their marriage. Some may argue how I feel things behind the scenes are with them, some may totally agree. But I really hope this story provided entertainment for Moral Orel fans. Thank you for reading and please review and or favorite/alert this story. :)**


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